


worthy

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Thor (2011), Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: “You are from another life. Another time.” Loki nods. With a weary chuckle, Thor sits again upon the grass. “Even so,” Thor says, “the sight of you from any age brings me joy, Loki.” He offers a weak smile. How old he looks, this shade of Loki’s proud brother.





	worthy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card: Interrogation
> 
> Enjoy!

Loki wakes to rain. It pelts Loki’s skin and chills him through his clothes. His boots sink into the mud as he steps out into the storm.

This cannot be Agard. Where is the golden city, the bifrost? Where stand the mountains or sprawl mighty blue rivers? No, this is another place entirely. It cannot be Jotunheim or Niflheim. Perhaps Vanaheim with its trees - but no, these forests grow too young; mere saplings, frail and new. Midgard then? Midgard it must be, but this does not explain the rain, a torrent of despair that belongs to Asgard alone.

Fallen warships shaped like spearheads blister the countryside. They cannot be of Midgard unless advancements in the realm have been significant. Weapon craft like this should still be centuries away.

Midgard has done something to invite a higher form of war, clearly. Is this why Loki’s spell brings him here? A smile plays on Loki’s lips.

A city stands beyond the broken trees, its lights glowing like torches in the storm’s darkness. Quite primitive, their electricity-run design. But it is further along than Loki expects from a Midgardian civilization in this century. Children grow fast in young societies like these.

Loki asked to see first-hand the devastation sure to befall Asgard with his brother on the throne. That he finds himself on Midgard is a curiosity, but it is proof that the Nine Realms have fallen to chaos. It is the sworn oath of Asgard to maintain harmony among the Nine. The future has weighed Thor and already found him lacking.

Where is Loki’s idiot brother anyway? This is, after all, his storm. What is the meaning behind this temper tantrum? Why is Thor here at all? Has the King of Asgard become so lax in his post that he would abandon his home for this primitive realm? Perhaps Father or Mother oversee Asgard in his absence. Or Loki himself - ha! As if Thor would ever entrust him with the power of Gungnir.

Ah, here he is, the fool.

Thor has aged startlingly. He is bigger and stronger, his shoulders are heavy, and his expression drawn. Thor’s hair is short. He is also missing an eye. A gold-plated disc rests over the vacant gap. Quite a resemblance to the All-Father. Smug as this loss makes Loki, he cannot help a prickle of jealousy.

The most surprising piece is the weapon at Thor’s feet. It is a mighty axe; a handle of thick branch, steel reminiscent of Mjolnir itself. But it is not Mjolnir. Is this weapon a substitute for the worthy hammer of Nidavellir? Or - a gleeful thought crosses Loki’s mind - can it be that Thor is no longer worthy of Mjolnir? Has Father stripped Thor of his birthright and banished from Asgard altogether? No wonder Thor’s storm cries upon Midgard, his tears soaking Loki’s clothes and running cold down his face.

This amusement, though, gives way to confusion. 

Loki has never seen despair run this deep in his ox brother. Thor’s storms are a rage of self-importance. This Thor, though, has tasted defeat. Loki has his proof of his brother’s unworthiness. But he must understand the full extent of Thor’s failure.

Loki sloshes through slick soil until he stands close enough for Thor to hear him over howling winds. “Lovely weather, isn’t it?” he calls with a grin. “Tell me, brother mine, what disaster of your making is to thank for this passion?”

Loki reads a sudden stiffness to Thor’s posture, lip snagged by his top row of teeth. Thor’s grimace disappears behind hands cupped to his face.

Strolling closer, Loki’s hails turn biting. “Hello? Thor almighty, I am speaking to you. Tell me, king, what do you cry over? This ruin of a world? Or is it that you cannot go home? You are an outcast unworthy of your Father’s blood?” Loki’s voice rises, eager, desperate. His mirth has turned to anger. “Tell me!”

Thor’s hands shudder against his face. He gasps for breath, and short gusts of wind whip across Loki’s face. Loki expects violence, but this Thor has sunk too low for provocation. He cannot even face his own brother’s questions!

“Coward,” Loki hisses. He plants his filthy boots before this strange, aged visage of his brother. “Tell me!” Loki demands again. Alarm widens Thor’s eyes, but still he will not speak.

Enraged, Loki grabs Thor’s wrists. Thor’s head snaps upward. His mouth forms around words with no sound.

Suddenly, Thor traps Loki in his arms. Loki shoves him, startled. “What in the Hel are you-”

“Loki… Norns, Loki, how - you were - I don’t care. Gods, I don’t care, I don’t care. _Loki._ ” Thor bows his face to Loki’s shoulder and weeps - the great Thor weeps! His fists close in Loki’s clothes as if afraid that his own storm will wrench Loki away for good.

Loki does not understand, and what he does not understand angers him. He pushes Thor away, notes his sluggish stumble in the mud.

Thor is not provoked, only open-mouthed and astonished. “You look so young.” Thor’s voice breaks. “Are you truly here? I’ve heard your voice in the darkness, brother. I’ve searched every corner for you, but my efforts were for nought. Forgive me.” Loki startles when Thor takes his hand and kisses it. How Loki’s own Thor would balk at the sight! “I failed you,” Thor says to his skin.

Loki snatches his hand back as if set ablaze. “What’s the matter with you?” he demands. “This isn’t you, this isn’t Thor. What have you done? What ruin have you brought upon us?” Loki’s voice is shrill.

This is not what Loki expected to find in this future. Misfortune, yes. Signs of decay thanks to the reign of his unwieldy brother. But how could Loki foresee this madness?

Surprise writes across Thor’s brow. “Brother,” Thor whispers. By the Nine, Loki has never heard him so frail. “Do you not know me? Or what has come to pass?” Loki feels off-balance, sinking in the mud. The very air of this place is wrong.

Never did Loki imagine he would find Thor so defeated. When Loki devised this scheme, he dreamed of basking in his brother’s failures. Oh, he would boast to Father and Mother of the fate that would befall Asgard were Thor to be king! Surely then, Father would make the right choice. Loki and Thor were both born to be kings, but only one has the mind, the foresight, to stand next in line to the mighty Odin.

It is one thing to dream of failure, it is another to see its true ugliness.

The surprise on Thor’s face turns bitter. “You are from another life. Another time.” Loki nods. With a weary chuckle, Thor sits again upon the grass. “Even so,” Thor says, “the sight of you from any age brings me joy, Loki.” He offers a weak smile. How old he looks, this shade of Loki’s proud brother.

It is clear that the Loki of this time is dead. This truth should shock Loki, but he finds himself more curious than dismayed. What end did this time’s Loki meet, that this Thor would speak of him with such affection?

“You have your answer then,” Thor says. “On my worthiness for the crown.”

“I have a mountain of questions,” Loki snaps, “but no answer, save this pathetic realm and your sullen place in it. Where are Mother and Father? Why are you not on Asgard?”

“Asgard is destroyed.” 

Loki strains forward. The rain is lighter, but it must still impact Loki’s hearing. Surely his ears deceive him. “Beg your pardon?”

“Asgard is destroyed,” Thor repeats quietly. “Ragnarok has come to pass. Together, you and I joined our friends in saving as many of our people as we could.”

Asgard...destroyed? “And what of Father and Mother?” Loki demands. 

Thor lowers his head further still, like a guilty child awaiting punishment. “Both dead,” he says. “And you. And half our people. Half our universe.” His voice splinters so painfully that even Loki must wince. “You’ve come,” Thor chuckles miserably, “to weigh my worthiness. I search for what remains of our people. I - I do what I can. I’ve tried, Loki, but I’ve failed.” The look he raises is stricken, but a seed of hope warms his good eye. “That is the message you’ll carry to Asgard, isn’t it?” Grief wracks Thor’s face at the mention of home. “I have proven myself unworthy, you’ve seen it with your own eyes. Carry proof with you, brother. Tell Father-”

“Is this a king?” Loki stands aghast, dripping and disbelieving. “You would...ask me to speak against you to one day spare you from your own defeat?”

“To discredit me.” Thor’s face softens. “Is that not why you’ve come?”

Loki glares at this poor imitation of Thor; his mighty brother, the storm itself! This thing before him is a shade, a mere ghost of a king. “You said you have people to find,” Loki sneers, “yet you sit here cowering like a beaten mule.”

“I’ve tried, Loki, but-”

“Try harder!” Anger flares in Loki’s eyes. “You are a king, aren’t you?”

After a silent moment, Thor sighs. “I miss you more than words can say.”

Loki scoffs. “Oh yes,” he mutters, “what love the two of us share-”

“Never doubt it, Loki.” Thor reaches for his hand. “Never doubt that I love you. I was every thing you called me in our youth. I did not understand, I know that. But none of that matters. I love you, Loki. I am not whole without you.”

Loki shifts uncomfortably. “You must be-”

“I am not.” A thumb grazes Loki’s knuckles. “You died with honor, Loki. For Asgard. For me.” A tear rolls down his cheek.

Thor’s words are strange. They sound honest, and they must be true. But how is one to hear the tale of his own death? To Loki, it is like a fable told to a child. Loki dying a hero for Asgard, for Thor? These things are beyond his comprehension.

A sharp smile comes to Loki’s lips. “And you honor me by - what? Weeping and doing nothing?” In this, surely Loki will rile his downtrodden brother at last.

The words only seem to sink Thor’s spirits lower. “I’ve failed you, Loki. I’ve failed everyone.”

This will not do.

The passion that overtakes Loki is sudden and violent. He grabs Thor’s collar and hoists him forward. Thor sags towards Loki without resistance, pliant as a doll. “Since when is failure the end of anything?” Loki presses. “There’s still life in you, isn’t there? Thor!” Loki shakes Thor, forcing attention from his glazed eye. “What hope is there for any of us if this is to be our future?”

“Trillions, Loki.” Thor shudders. “Across the Nine. Everywhere. Living creatures just...evaporating as rain under a sun. What recourse can there be after a loss so unthinkable?”

Loki’s brain cannot process it. Has Thor, in his grief, succumbed to madness?

Loki eases his fist from Thor’s clothes and runs it instead across Thor’s face. Thor’s beard rasps against Loki’s knuckles. “If our people are out there, you must find them, Thor. Asgard cannot exist without its people.”

It is an intolerable burden Thor wears, but he must bear it. Loki sees this now. This is the opposite of why Loki is here. Something has changed.

“I will do my best,” Thor swears.

“You will succeed,” Loki corrects sharply. “And you will ensure Asgard survives. That is what you must do.”

After a quiet moment, Thor’s mouth curls in a faint show of mirth. “Are you sure you won’t aim for the crown yourself, brother? Your mind always was more clever, your words more natural.” How strange it is to hear these compliments from this replica of his Thor. Loki’s own brother would never.

“I probably will,” he says, an attempt to hide his awkwardness.

Thor laughs quietly at the sentiment; odd that it does not anger him. “How I miss you, Loki.” He presses a kiss to Loki’s forehead.

Loki scoffs at the gesture, no matter how it pleases him. Even hunched like this, his brother seems large, a symbol of the might of Asgard. It pains Loki to find him so worthy, no longer a bright-eyed, selfish youth, but a warrior and a king. Was the Loki of this time as partial to this Thor? Is this why he made his choice?

Loki tries to picture laying down his life for his brother. Thor is brutish and stupid, but he cares for Loki. Loki has never doubted it. But to die for him? Loki has not much considered death at all. He is young yet, not even 1,000 years old.

“How long will you stay?” Thor asks.

Loki hears the hope in his voice. It hurts to disappoint him. “It is a glimpse only. A matter of minutes. I have my own time, Thor.”

“Of course.” Still, Thor’s head hangs and his strong shoulders bunch. In Thor’s despair, Loki feels how much he is loved. He knows, were this Thor given the chance, he would offer his life for Loki’s and never think twice.

“This evil you face,” Loki says. “Does it have a name, so I may prepare myself.”

Thor’s good eye turns to him. Loki reads the terror in it. “Thanos, brother,” he says. “The infinity stones. He will fashion a device to harness their power on Nidavellir.”

Loki frowns. He has heard of the infinity stones. The ancient power sources of the universe. Long buried and forgotten. Intriguing to Loki with his study of life’s energy but ultimately a fruitless pursuit.

“All six?” It must be impossible, even with the help of the great star of Nidavellir. Only the worthiest are capable of holding the might of one stone. But all of the stones combined?

“Yes,” Thor says. “And he will not rest until half of all life ceases to exist. In my time, we could not stop him. Now, we rebuild as best we can.”

Loki straightens with this new purpose. He feels a fire in his belly that - to now - has been consumed with loathing for his older brother. “I will look into it,” he swears. It is only when the words leave Loki that he realizes how immature they sound. What a casual response to a caution against unspeakable horror.

Thor smiles and takes Loki’s hand. He folds their fingers together and kisses Loki’s knuckles in succession.

Unbidden warmth fills Loki’s veins. “I amuse you,” Loki accuses.

Thor shakes his head. The motion brushes his lips to Loki’s fingers. “You comfort me,” he says. “I wish you knew that sooner. I wish things were different.”

“But they are not,” Loki says. He faces Thor fully. “What will you do?”

“I will try,” Thor says. Loki’s hand bears the gentle touch of his words. “For you, I swear. You’re right, Loki. I’ve been - my grief is real, but to indulge it while our people may live is selfish. Father would never-” 

“From what you tell me, you are king now, not Father.” Loki pulls his hand from Thor’s to thumb at the scar beneath his missing eye. “How did this happen?” he asks.

Thor chuckles. “A long story. Longer than we have, it seems.” He tries, and fails, to take Loki’s other hand. Loki sees what Thor does: his right hand has become a ghost, transparent and untouchable. The condition consumes his feet and climbs up his legs.

Loki looks on this older version of his brother - weathered, raw. He touches the scars around his wounded eye, traces his nose, his lips, his beard. His brother, his king, sucks in a breath. Loki knows it is a brave face he wears; tears wait behind his wall of resignation.

Something pressing unsettles Loki’s stomach. His nerves flutter, and his heart aches.

“Live well,” Thor says. He manages a smile. “Be on your guard, Loki, but be happy in your time. Do not let-” His words stumble when Loki kisses him. At once, Thor’s bravery falters. His body stiffens, and his hands tremble.

Loki is fading, drifting like sails on a lazy wind, but still he feels Thor hold him. Like a dream, impossible desire, Thor embraces and kisses him. Desperate words warm Loki’s ghosting skin. “Live, brother. Please live.” Thor kisses with passion; he grasps Loki’s wet clothes, and Loki holds him as close. He clings to this Thor until his very touch ceases to exist, and he is falling, falling…

Loki is on the floor of his chambers. The lanterns are lit, books sprawled around him, and Loki sits in the middle of this chaos. His clothes are soaked, his face stained with tears.

“Loki, come on!” The door to his rooms burst open. In marches his brother; his same, young Thor, soft of face and long of hair. Beautiful and cocky as ever. “You’re late for the...feast - brother, what is all this?” Thor takes in the mess of the room and the puddle of Loki’s wet clothes. “What did you do?” he asks.

Loki laughs, a choked sound. This is always where Thor’s mind goes, isn’t it? Always his first assumption - what has Loki done now? “Get out,” he scowls, “I need to change.”

“Loki.” Something changes in Thor’s voice. Startled, Loki finds Thor looking at his face. Truly looking, with a closeness Loki cannot recall from his brother before. A frown tugs at Thor’s lips. “Are you alright?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”

“What?” The question blurts from Loki clumsily. To be the focus of his brother’s full attention is strange. Embarrassed, Loki scrubs his wet eyes. “No,” he says. “I just need to bathe, then-”

Loki’s mouth snaps shut when Thor sinks to his knees before him. He stares at Thor’s face - his concern and the clench of his jaw. “Did someone hurt you?” Thor asks. Thunder rumbles under rapidly darkening skies. Loki’s windows turn black, his lanterns their only light.

Loki shivers despite himself. “No, Thor,” he says.

“Loki, if something has been done to you-”

“Thor.” Loki places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. It is strong already, but now Loki knows it will become broader. Thor will change in other ways too - his scars, his eyes, the very light of his soul.

This Thor is not the vision he saw. This Thor is arrogant and selfish. He _is_ unworthy. Were this Thor to wear the crown of Asgard, he would bring about nothing but war and ruin. Ragnarok itself, if the future holds!

Loki squeezes Thor’s hands, and his eyes well with new tears. Thor returns the gesture fervently. He looks into Loki’s eyes, frowning. “Loki, please tell me.”

There is a path in Thor’s eyes, should Loki choose to follow it. A future side by side forever. Loki may not rule, but he would guide Thor’s reign. Offer wisdom. Be content in the knowledge that Thor loves him as he loves Thor.

Loki does not know if this is a lead he can follow. To be content is not in Loki’s nature, nor is standing by as his brother makes a fool of their house.

Yet Thor loves Loki as Loki loves him. If the future holds, this must mean something.

Loki offers a smile, slight but honest. “I’m tired,” he says, “and not hungry.” Thor’s face falls so sincerely that Loki has to bite back a chuckle. He lifts his head enough to welcome Thor’s fingers beneath his jaw. “You should go. Celebrate with your friends.”

“I’ll stay.” Thor never hesitates. “Food and drink can be brought here. Eat if you want, or don’t. We can talk. Or.. read?” He eyes the books on Loki’s floor. The oaf has no idea what they are, but he offers anyway. Worry quiets Thor’s voice. “You’re soaked through, Loki.”

“A change and I’ll be reborn.” Loki stands, and Thor stands with him. His brother’s attention is both stifling and fascinating. Loki releases his held breath, along with a small coil of his tightly-wound pride. “Stay if you want,” he says.

Thor’s face warms like a freshly lit torch. “Of course!” Startled, Loki realizes how relieved Thor is. “I will stay as long as you desire me.”

Loki smiles sadly. It is a promise, if fate holds, that neither of them will keep.

He thinks of the name from the future. Thanos. The infinity stones. There is much Loki does not know, much he must understand. But for tonight, Loki nods and again offers of his pride. “Thank you,” he tells Thor.

Thor squeezes Loki’s shoulder, a whole realm of meaning in the gesture. “Thank you, brother,” he says. Loki watches, amused, as he goes to fetch their feast at the door. Thor is exasperating, and Loki is more fond of him than he can ever recall.

This is the king Loki will die for.

A chill runs through Loki. He knows it now to be true.

*The End*


End file.
